


The crystal dancer

by NaoYoshikawa



Category: Original Work
Genre: Boyfriends, Crying, Crystals, Depression, F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, Girls Kissing, Goodbyes, Hugs, Love, Love Confessions, Sad Ending, School, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teenage Drama, Teenagers, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaoYoshikawa/pseuds/NaoYoshikawa
Summary: Ian falls for Daisy at school.Daisy is ephemeral, distant, almost like an angel. By chance the two manage to talk and make friends, but Ian doesn't know Daisy's secrets, he doesn't know her evil and her pain. He'll try to keep her with him, but he can't.
Kudos: 3





	The crystal dancer

Ian waited every morning for her to arrive.  
In the schoolyard, he'd wait for the crystal dancer.  
He'd lay his eyes on his nose, nervous, looking around with growing impatience. It didn't matter if it was winter or cold or rainy...  
Because she would light up everything, like a ray of sunshine ripping through the gray clouds.  
Her name was Daisy, and she was so delicate and pale that she looked like a ghost. With blonde hair, gray eyes, and diaphanous skin, it was rare for her to go unnoticed.  
She certainly didn't go unnoticed by Ian.  
He only saw her, but she didn't see him. He was like that, Daisy. As graceful as an angel, as distant and unreachable as a dream, she passed in front of everyone without looking at anyone's face, too shy and introverted to do so. It was this that had struck Ian, the first time she had arrived: the moment she crossed his melancholy eyes, the colour of the storm, he was convinced that Daisy was a sort of angel fallen from heaven. Or perhaps he found himself thinking that because he read too much. And, deep down, you knew that he who read too much dreamed too much.  
Ian didn't know much about her.  
He knew she was very good at science and that she read from time to time. Who knows what her favorite books were? Did she like fantasy stories like him, or did she prefer romance?  
Another thing she learned was her passion for ballet. She had heard him say it on one of those rare occasions when Daisy talked to her classmates.  
Because Ian wasn't good with words, but he could listen in silence. He could see beauty where others saw only diversity. He liked to look at her in secret as he wished he had the courage to talk to her, at least say hello.  
He liked her curls and the light way she moved. He was convinced that if he touched her, she would break.  
Like a beautiful crystal.  
And so he waited, waited in vain, content with fleeting glances and to see the redness on her cheeks, when every now and then their eyes just happened to cross.

The opportunity to really talk to her came one winter day, cold and rainy. When the bell of the last hour rang, Ian was always the last one out, to avoid being crushed in the corridor by his companions, which was very likely, slim as it was. But that day, he wasn't the only one who stayed.  
He saw Daisy leaning over his books and with her hands in front of her face, motionless, as if she were sleeping. And Ian also remained motionless, not knowing what to do or say. They were alone, maybe it was the right occasion to take some courage and say at least a simple hello.  
Oh, he felt so stupid sometimes. He was 15 and he didn't even know how to approach a girl.  
Ian swelled his chest and took a deep breath. Daisy was in a daze and, for that reason, she shook violently when the boy almost tripped over her own feet.  
It was then that the crystal dancer stood up, almost frightened, looking at him for the first time so deeply that his soul trembled. His eyes, the same color as the sky in those days, were filled with tears.  
These tears slipped on his face, on his cheeks, some died on his lips. Daisy was crying, submissively but clearly desperately. And with shame now she was in a hurry to grab her books and run away.  
"Wait! Don't go!"  
Those were Ian's first words to her. Not exactly what she'd hoped, but what did she expect after all? It wasn't easy to catch an angel.  
Daisy was gone, and the image of her crying face was left before his eyes. But one thing, by mistake, he had left her: the pink bow she wore in her hair. Perhaps it had slipped by mistake?  
Ian asked himself this as he bent down to pick it up: it was a pale pink, satin-like fabric. Or so he thought. Giving it back to him would have been a perfect excuse to try another approach, but he was now more scared than before.  
She wondered why Daisy was crying. She wondered who could have the courage to make an angel cry.  
There were those who would tell him his thoughts were too melodramatic, but he didn't care. He held Daisy's ribbon with his fingers, gave it back to her the next morning and hoped not to see her cry again.

To Ian's great relief, he arrived the next day in a hurry. Sitting at the counter and totally immersed in his thoughts, he pretended to be interested in the adventures of Harry Potter, too anxious to devote himself to them at all. Perhaps Daisy wouldn't come?  
A thousand doubts had taken hold of his mind and he cursed himself so much for being just an insecure fool.  
But Daisy arrived just before class. She wasn't crying, there were no tears on her face. Without looking at him, she went to sit at her desk, alone as always, while her classmates, all together, laughed and joked. Ian stood up, making the chair squeal against the floor. It had been said that if he kept thinking, it wouldn't solve anything. He approached her, and then reached out with his arm, showing the ribbon he was holding between his fingers.  
"Y-you dropped this yesterday!" he couldn't stop stuttering, red in the face. Daisy looked at him, blinked softly.  
Gently, she reached out her hands, muttering a simple, timid "Thank you."  
Almost by chance her gaze went beyond the figure of Ian, resting on the book she was holding on the counter.  
"Ah, read Harry Potter. I like it too," she said visibly fascinated, whereupon Ian felt his heart beat fast in his chest.  
"I must have reread them at least ten times, I was just rereading The Chamber of Secrets!"  
He was able to talk without screwing up. Daisy gave him a sweet smile.  
"I like that. Reading's fun, isn't it? It allows you to fly far away, wherever you want," she sighed, with a melancholy that actually permeated her totally, like a sort of aura.  
Ian would have wanted to say yes, he would have wanted to tell her that he was perfectly right, but the arrival of the math teacher had marked the end of their conversation.

When the intermission bell rang, Ian had now gained enough courage to approach Daisy again, in the hope that she would not find him insistent. Instead, the girl seemed very happy to talk to him and smiled at him in a way that once again made his heart melt.  
"Don't you go out in the yard with your friends?" Daisy asked him. She had the pink ribbon in her hair again and spoke without looking him in the eye.  
"It's... it's cold, you know. And then I don't really have many friends," he admitted. They were facing each other and neither of them seemed to want to get too close. "What about you?"  
Daisy crossed her arms to her chest, now she seemed nervous.  
"I don't like the cold so much and this winter seems so harsh. Besides, I don't have many friends either. I don't really have any."  
"N-none?" stammered Ian. "But why? It doesn't make any sense. "I can understand that, but you're so kind and funny and pretty that..." he slapped his hand in front of his mouth.  
What an idiot figure.  
Daisy bowed her head to the side, smiling again.  
"You underestimate yourself too much. "You're one of the best in the class... and you have really good taste in literature."  
Ian went for a nervous giggle.  
"Yeah, well, at this point, if you don't mind, I'll be your friend and you'll be my friend. "Being together is better than being alone..."  
He blushed shamefully. Did it feel like a dream just to finally be able to talk to her, could he really aspire to something more?  
Daisy rolled her eyes. Ian couldn't have known it, but to her it seemed like something extraordinary, if not unique. She got closer, maybe too close.  
"I'm in. Let's do it," she said.  
So close that Ian could count her lashes. He wanted so badly to ask her why he'd seen her cry the day before. But he was too caught up in happiness to do it.

That's how their friendship began, one that seemed destined to last forever or maybe turn into something else. Because Ian had always been deeply in love with her and now that he was getting to know her, that feeling just kept growing. Beneath her shyness, Daisy hid an innate sympathy. She was sensitive and attentive, but also touchy, stubborn, even though she rarely got angry, after all she had no reason to, not when they were together. Their encounters were limited to the classroom, when it wasn't too cold in the courtyard. They exchanged books, talked and told each other, day after day, without anyone seeing them. The other people didn't consider them, at most they just looked at them, making strange faces.  
Sometimes they spent hours talking about all sorts of things, but as time went by, Ian realized one thing: he still didn't know anything about Daisy. Daisy was very vague when it came to talking about her. Maybe she was just secretive or just didn't want to share certain aspects of her life with him.  
And yet Ian had seen her crying and in those lost eyes she had seen us, for a split second, so much pain.  
That's why, one morning when the frost seemed to want to give them a break, he asked her.  
"Why were you crying that time? The time you lost the tape."  
Daisy looked up from her book, hoping Ian had forgotten that little detail.  
"I can't remember. Sometimes you cry. Doesn't it ever happen to you?"  
"Of course it happens to me," she snorted, resting her face on one hand. "I don't like it when you do that."  
"Like what?"  
"You're vague. I... I only care about you!" he let it slip. By now he was getting good at showing his deep affection and respect. Daisy, on the other hand, was never too out of balance, which is why her feelings remained a mystery.  
The girl raised an eyebrow and closed the book.  
"You know what? I don't want to be here anymore. Let's go."  
"Let's leave? But after the break we have more hours of class!" he reminded her. Daisy smiled.  
"I know. Follow me," she grabbed him by one sleeve and dragged him along.  
Ian didn't have a vehicle, except his beloved half-broken red bicycle. That day, as the clouds returned to cover the sun and he ran away from school, he followed the directions of her sitting behind him, letting the icy wind blow through her light hair.  
And her delicate hands clasped around his body.

Not too far from school there was a cliff, where in winter no one dared come near because of the icy wind that literally cut her face. That was the place where Daisy had driven him. Before them, the sea was grey - grey as his eyes - shaken by high waves. Ian did not understand what they were doing there, nor did he understand why Daisy, with her hands behind her back, had stopped to look at the stormy sea.  
She watched with such intensity that she seemed to want to become one with it.  
"I've never come here in winter," she said at one point.  
Daisy approached the edge of the cliff, where below her was the emptiness and the icy sea.  
"I like it much better in winter, because it's so lonely and quiet."  
She turned on herself, as if she were dancing. Ian felt fear and instinctively reached out his arm as if to grab her.  
If she fell, she'd break into a thousand pieces.  
"Stop! What are you doing? It's dangerous."  
But Daisy was quiet and undisturbed. Strangely enough, she was indifferent to frost and saltiness sticking to her skin.  
She seemed to want to take flight. But without wings, wouldn't she have fallen?  
"Take it easy," she simply answered. Then, melancholy again, she stared at the stormy horizon. Ian saw them again, two tears slowly rolling down her cheeks, silent.  
And again, like the first time, he could not ask her: Why are you crying?  
"Daisy...?" he murmured.  
"You know, it's funny. I don't like people. Or rather, I like them, but I can't connect with anybody. Just thinking about it makes me anxious. It scares me. Because people, after all, you can't control them. You don't know if they'll hurt you one day. And I try, I really try to open up, but I'm like stuck. And yet it's not the world's fault, it's my fault. Mine for being like this."  
Ian listened carefully and waited. He thought Daisy would continue the sentence, yet he remained silent.  
"Why do you say that? I don't think you're wrong. You're building a bond with me," he replied, blushing.  
She looked down, sad.  
"And you will suffer for it. I know you will."  
Tears slipped again, more than before. Ian didn't understand why she'd burst out like that, but he learned one thing: Daisy was suffering for something that was beyond what she had just heard.  
There was definitely more to it than she had just heard. So she took a deep breath and, clenching her fists, asked him one more time:  
"Daisy. Why exactly are you crying?"  
The girl's lips trembled, as if she was about to say something that was actually held back.  
She didn't answer. He remained silent listening to the sound of the wind and the sea.  
And afterwards, Ian couldn't help wondering if he was just dreaming.

Nothing had changed since that morning. At least, that's how it looked to Ian. He and Daisy continued to see each other and date every day, creating an ever closer bond, but one of the two sides remained shrouded in mystery.  
She never talked about her family, nor did she talk about anything too private. Ian, on the other hand, had confided many things to her, such as the fact that he often felt lonely, that his house seemed too big and that his parents worked most of the time. That he often fought this loneliness with books and TV series, it wasn't too terrible after all, he created his own comfortable little world.  
But he still knew almost nothing about Daisy.

It was raining again when, that January night, someone knocked on her door. Ian usually wouldn't open the door for anyone, so his parents recommended him. But this one time he just felt he absolutely had to go.  
Before him came Daisy, soaking wet from the rain. She breathed, as if she'd run.  
"D-Daisy! But what are you doing here? And why are you all wet? Come in now, you'll catch a fever!"  
He grabbed her by the arm and the girl lifted up her face. Tears, again, this time mixed with rain. She let herself groan and desperately hugged him, soaking him, but Ian didn't care.  
That was the deepest contact they had had so far. Daisy's arms around his shoulders and her face sunk on one shoulder.  
Ian had never been in a situation like this before. Above all, never had a girl come into his room, into his lair.  
Daisy sat on the bed, wearing a blanket, looking around lost and scared.  
"Can I make some tea? Unfortunately I don't have any clothes to give you... maybe mine, but they'd be big," she tried, red in the face for embarrassment. Daisy looked down, visibly distraught.  
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to come here, but it was almost instinctive. The last thing I want to be is a burden. Or give you too much responsibility. Oh, as if I wasn't already."  
The boy clenched his fists, found the courage to sit next to her.  
"Responsibility too big? It's not! Please, whatever it is, talk to me. I know something's bothering you, but I can't figure out what it is. You're real, yet sometimes you seem so far away... because time goes by and I still don't know anything about you!"  
There was an anger that was poorly held in his words. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her again, but he couldn't control himself. Daisy looked up, curious, attentive, innocent. Their irises met, framed and Ian understood nothing.  
So close and alive, but also so far away and elusive.  
As fleeting as the kiss, light and delicate, which she placed on his lips shortly after. Perhaps a way of shutting him up?  
Ian didn't know, but he didn't care. He felt only her and enjoyed the feeling of her lips on his own.  
Unaware, as he slowly held her close, that this would be the first and last time he would have her like this.

Ian hadn't told him, but that was his first kiss. And it was completely different than he'd expected, a thousand times better. But once again, the reason behind his tears remained a mystery.  
What were they now? Very special friends? Or maybe a couple?  
There hadn't been a question or an officialisation. It was a big deal. They had to clear the air.  
They said they would when they saw each other again, eyes in the eyes.  
The day after their first kiss, Ian waited for Daisy to arrive. He was a bit late and she hadn't even texted him yet. Maybe she'd fallen asleep?  
He waited patiently, but time passed, the lesson started, and Daisy wasn't even there. He didn't understand why, yet he began to feel restless and nervous. She didn't respond to the messages he had taken to sneak up on her during class.  
Maybe by kissing me she realized that she doesn't like me and doesn't want to talk to me anymore?  
That was the first question he asked himself, but Ian had a feeling that there must be something else underneath that he didn't know.  
But deep down, how many things did he not know about you?  
Visiting her at home was out of the question, he had no idea where she lived, but he knew the dance school she went to. She had to get rid of that unjustified feeling.

Riding his bike, Ian had hurried to the dance studio. But when he was told that Daisy still hadn't shown up that afternoon, the feeling of unease and fear increased. The second place he thought of looking was the cliff.  
There was a strong wind that day, and yet he had the impression that she would have no problem going there.  
Go all the way there to do what?  
It came to his mind when he saw her close to the void, with a melancholy smile on his lips.  
It gave him the feeling that he wanted to throw himself off.  
He thought about it and his heart suddenly hurt.

Daisy wasn't afraid of heights. In fact, by now she had learned not to fear anything. Her heart had died out, day after day.  
It was a torment, that thought. That fixed thought that told her, "Get it over with, you'll never be happy anyway.  
Daisy had never been strong. Some people compared her to a crystal, and they were right: the crystal was beautiful, but when it fell, it broke into a thousand pieces.  
The wind blew icy cold, cutting her face off. The waves, impetuous and violent, would drag her down and she might not even suffer too much. She found that this was the right way for her to leave.  
The dancer's last number, before the end.  
I breathed in the salty air, spreading my arms like a bird eager to fly. And then she stepped, with the pink bow in her hair and her face wet with tears.  
At that moment he hated himself for only one reason: because he would make Ian suffer. That dear, tender, gentle boy, to whom he'd given his first and last kiss.  
The first person who made her feel good, in spite of everything.  
Forgive me. I hoped I could save myself, but I've fallen so low, I can no longer see the light.  
Maybe they could have been happy...  
If only he hadn't taken that last step.  
"DAISY!"  
Ian's scream resounded loudly, but by the time he called her, Daisy had already jumped, elegant and suave, ready to sink into the abyss. Ian didn't see her face, but he was sure she was crying.


End file.
